Moab, UT

For the past several years Liz's friends have been doing an annual mountain bike trip to Moab. This past spring we rode the White Rim Trail - 4 days and 3 nights of riding and camping over a 100+ mile loop around Canyonlands National Park.  This fall the group decided to make the C campsite in the Sand Flats campground near the Slickrock Trail the home base, and ride the Moab trails from there.

We headed up to Moab on Thursday getting their just in time to set the tent up and head over the Griffith campfire.  On Friday, most of us rode the Amasa Back Trail - which I had never done before.  It was a pretty good ride... got my wheels back under me.  I always seem to ride better in Moab, or maybe just with more confidence.  Perhaps it is the fact that 9 other people got over something on the trail that looked near impossible that makes me more willing to attempt it.  This trail climbed quite a bit to an overlook, traveling over a lot of different terrain. Certainly a ride I would do again.  Friday afternoon I was talked into going for a 3 mile run in the drop dead heat - oh, after eating lunch and drinking a beer.  Lets just say it wasn't the best I've felt on a run.  

Me at the end of Amasa Back.

Saturday some of the group did Porcupine Rim and some of the group did Sovereign. Despite never having ridden Porcupine Rim I opted to ride Sovereign, wanting to ride with a few of the folks that had been busy baby sitting the day before.  Unfortunately the ride was a bust because we had trouble finding the trail and spent most of the ride pedaling around looking for it.  To make up for it, in the evening we left camp and rode a bit of the Slickrock Trail, which is always a good time.

One of the friends had rented a hotel room for the weekend, and the shower and the pool certainly came in handy.  Mornings were filled with biking, afternoons with swimming or showering, and evenings with sitting around the campfire.  The trip felt too short - I would love to do a few more rides the next time I am there.  Moab anyone?

View from camp while clouds came in one evening.

The days go by...

Liz and I got married two years ago in Hyde State Park outside Santa Fe, NM. It's hard to believe it has been a full two years from the days of picking out linen colors, flowers, songs, food, booze, etc., and two years from probably the last time I'll see Liz in a dress.  :)

This year for our anniversary we decided to follow our "tradition" and go camping in Hyde

Park. Lucy saw the camping gear coming off the shelves in the garage and hopped in the car ready to go.  No ifs ands or buts, she was going (she was proud of herself, although we'd planned on taking her regardless). We got up there Friday afternoon and barely had time to set up the tent and start cooking dinner before it got too dark.  It sprinkled on us a few times while we sat and ate by the fire, but nothing worth noting (wait, is blogging "noting?"). We made smores for dessert and climbed into the tent for the night.

We woke up and made breakfast burritos in the morning.  We burned my "Facon" a bit, which didn't up being noticeable over the added non-dairy creamer to the eggs.  Liz thought the creamer would add well to the eggs, but unfortunately it was vanilla flavored and thus, so were our burritos.  They still tasted good, but were certainly different from the typical New Mexican food spiced with red or green chile.  Gave all new meaning to my California slang of "Sweet burrito, babe!" 

We stopped off at Ten Thousand Waves on our way home for massages.  Ten Thousand waves is an asian escape in the mountains of Santa Fe.  It's beautiful, peaceful, incredibly calming... I could hang out there all day. Sadly we couldn't because we had tickets for our friend's comedy show, the Southwest Funny Fest, that night.  But the comedy show was worth coming home for, I had a side stitch for hours I laughed so hard. 

Two years later and the days keep going by.  There are no more wedding dresses to fit, colors to pick, make-up to worry about, hair to do, or invitations to send.  Liz told me Friday night she loved me AND my baggage - and when she said "baggage" she pointed to Lucy.  It is just us three now in our own world, and I couldn't be happier.  Lucy and I sure drew the good straw.

You knew a self portrait was coming.

Lucy, patiently waiting in the car while we packed.

The Imogene Pass Run

I am currently sitting in my home office writing this blog, looking out at the Sandia Mountains. I recently wrote a blog about running up La Luz, and from this vantage point I can see a small portion of that trail as it winds into the wilderness, and then up and beyond. From this recent blog you can read that I view that trail as pretty difficult, and agree with Runner's World when they once declared La Luz as one of the top 12 most difficult trail runs in the lower 48.

I know what number 1 must be now... because the trail I can see from here is a hill, a mogul, a pimple compared to what I did last weekend.

The Imogene Pass Run.  Or as I like to call it: The Imogonna Passout Run.

I know this is last year's poster, but it was all I could find.

This may be the single most difficult run I have ever done. 17.1 miles from Ouray (7800 feet), over the Imogene Pass (13,120 feet), and back down to Telluride (8800 feet). I will break it down for you here in chunks:

Miles 1-5: The "easy" part of the course.  I left Ouray and in 5.5 miles found myself arriving at Lower Camp Bird after gaining 1955 feet in elevation.   The gradient was an average of 6.8%.  In the first few miles I felt excited about the event.  In the last few miles of this section I found myself wondering what I had gotten myself into.  I was already tired and in dire need to stop and stretch, which I did once only to find out I was simply in dire need to stop and stretching was merely an excuse. 

Miles 5-7.65: Mile 5 is really where the event begins.  From this point to the top the average gradient is 13.8%, double what the "warm-up" first 5 miles was. I left Lower Camp Bird for Upper Camp Bird, a gain in 1470 feet elevation.  The scenery is gorgeous, but my legs were increasingly tired and the mountain was increasingly steep.  At this point I left the conifer forest for good.  Upper Camp Bird rests at elevation 11,235, and if you're lucky you make it there before the cutoff time (2 hours and 30 minutes).

Turns out I was "lucky" enough to make the cutoff time.  I made it there in about 1 hour and 40 minutes.  I had read the description of the course before the race, and knew that the next 2.5 miles to the top, another 1885 foot elevation gain, would be the toughest.  Mile 7.5 to mile 9 was increasingly steep (16.5% gradient).  But it was mile 9 to 10, the last mile to the top that I was worried about.  22% gradient.  That is steep.

Miles 7.65 to 10: I left Upper Camp Bird planning to get to the 9 mile marker and taking a breather before likely walking to the top. Turns out I should have planned to walk most the rest of the way from Upper Camp Bird.  There were several undulations  in the section that I would run, but otherwise I was participating in a steep hike with a thousand other people.  I actually laughed at one point after running a 20 yard section.  The guy next to me was intrigued by my laughter and I explained to him that I wasn't sure why I even tried running those sections, or why they called it a run at all... and why had I been next to the same rock for 10 minutes?

I made it to the top in 2 and a half hours, 10.05 miles 2:31 to be exact. I stopped at the aid station and looked at the licorice vines and wondered who had enough saliva to get those down.  Before I knew it I had two in my mouth and three in my hand as I left the top of the mountain.  I had reached 13,120 feet and now ahead of me all I had to do was coast downhill 7 miles into Telluride.  I made it!

Down the hill: I thought the downhill would be easier than it was.  But my legs were so tired from the climb that running down an 18% gradient trail with loose footing was more difficult than I had planned.  About 40 yards into the downhill section I decided I had more ahead of me than I had planned for.

Lucky for me the first 2 miles down were the steepest and it leveled out enough after that to marginally begin enjoying myself.  When I reached the 12 mile mark I hit my second wind (or 32nd, I wasn't sure at this point) and realized for the first time after beginning the decent that I would make it.  

With three miles to go I was really moving (well, considering I had already run 14 miles up and over a mountain pass "really moving" was debatable). I had 5k to go.  I felt "good."  

Two miles to go.  One mile to go.  And then I could hear them.  The crowd.  And then I could see it.  The turn.  The turn when the runner leaves the trail, hits the pavement, and runs the 2.5 street blocks to the finish line.  I had read in the course description that this was the area responsible for the 2nd most falls (the 1st being at the top as runners begin their decent).  When I made the corner and hit the pavement I knew why.  I had tired legs that were used to the grip of the trail.  The pavement was hard and it felt sticky.  The first few steps on the pavement resulted in near falls.  My shoes seemed to reach out and grab the ground before I was aware of it.  I corrected my form and sailed into the finish line.  

My final time was 3 hours and 31 minutes.  2 and a half hours up, 1 hour down. The weather was cooperative - sunny.  No rain.  No snow.  It was cold, but manageable for sure. Out of 1100 people I finished 220th.  Out of 475 females I finished 41st.  And in my age group I finished 9th. 

Not too shabby for someone who only trained for a few weeks.

Dumb Idea Number 187

Doesn't that look like something you should run?  

Almost 4 weeks ago my friend came to the conclusion that her recent ankle injury would prevent her from running the Imogene Pass Run (www.imogenerun.com).  I thought to myself, hmm... start in Ouray, Colorado, at 7800 feet, climb to 13,200 or so, and drop back down to 8000 feet in Telluride, all the while covering over 17 miles.  Sounds like fun to me - where do I sign?!?!

Why do I do these things to myself?!?! 

The problem thus far has been I've only allowed just over 3 weeks of training for the event (which not only included running more, but actually running at all).  The website says for training one should learn to negotiate steep, rocky, and icy terrain.  I figured I do that when I snowboard so this shouldn't be too hard, right?  Oh, except I'll be running up instead of sliding down.  I could find steep terrain in New Mexico to run on, but not icy this time of year.  I contemplated going to the ice hockey rink with Liz and running around on the ice, but thought better of that before actually trying it.

I leave tomorrow (Friday), run/walk/crawl on Saturday, and return Sunday just in time to sit on the sidelines and watch my fellow teammates play soccer.  

Wish me luck - and wish me good weather!  You have to run with a hat, gloves, and jacket because they've had pretty inclement weather at the top in years past.  I'll let you know how it goes.  Stay tuned...

Running La Luz

Saturday morning, bright and early (ok, 7am) I ran the La Luz Trail with a few friends.  The La Luz trail in the Sandia Mountains of New Mexico is a grueling 7.2 miles of dirt (and rock) single track trail with a 12% grade.  If you start from the Tram as we did, you pound out an nice 1.3 extra miles, totaling about 8.5 miles of some serious uphill running.  The Tram sits at an elevation of 6559 ... and the peak at 10,678.  Yup, you're doing the math right: 4119 foot elevation change.   

The early part of the trail boasts pinon and juniper trees, while cholla and prickly pear cactus seem to leap out at you just as you pass.  The continued climb gives way to an alpine forest with blue spruce trees, ponderosa pines and some wildflowers (at least this time of year).  Just after 5 miles up (or 6.3 from where we started) you touch base on the rock slide area.  14 energy sucking switchbacks over a rockslide area that is nearly impossible to run - I call it the ankle break area. With just 0.6 miles left you make a turn and can see the top, but it is oh so high. You climb nearly 700 feet in elevation in only 0.6 miles.  UG - probably the slowest half mile of my life!

When I got home we made breakfast burritos and I ate mine so fast I can't remember what was in it. 

La Luz Trail Elevation

Sunday morning I woke up and biked 41 miles with a different set of friends. Around mile 33 I was really starting to feel the La Luz run the day before.  The massage I had Monday morning was more than deserved!